A Door Once Opened
by Unnamed.in.whispers
Summary: After the Platonious mission, Spock finds it necessary to compensate Christine for his actions while he was under duress. A mind-meld while she is suffering must be the easiest solution... but a door once opened can move in either direction...
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** A Door Once Opened [Part 1] **Series:** Star Trek TOS

**Type:** Fanfiction **Pairing:** Spock/Christine **Rating:** 12

**Summary:** After the Platonious mission, Spock finds it necessary to compensate Christine for his actions while he was under duress. A mind-meld while she is suffering must be the easiest solution... but a door once opened can move in either direction...

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the Star Trek characters or anything from the universe of Star Trek. I am just taking the characters and playing with them a while – promising to restore them whole and unblemished! Thanks to Gene Roddenberry for creating these toys for me to enjoy. Please don't take any of my playing as having any bearing on the actual franchise. Enjoy.

()

"Mr Spock."

Though the words were a greeting, Christine Chapels eyes remained downcast as she passed the Vulcan in the corridor. And if her commander slowed his pace or turned toward her, she had not noticed.

He watched her scurry away, as quickly as grace allowed, and silently considered the change in the Chief Nurse. It had been noted that there was a distinct difference in her behavior toward him, as this incident had once again proved. A month ago Christine Chapel would have happily slowed to exchange pleasantries with him before the shift.

But that was before mission to Platonius and the humiliating performance forced upon them by the Platonians.

_For so long I have wanted to be close to you. _She had admitted, in shame, as their audience laughed and cheered for Spock to hold her closer. _Now all I want to do is crawl away and die! _He had failed her. He had indeed held her closer.

Spock had tried to be strong for her. Mentally block the control the Platonians had over him… but he was unable to. And as illogical as it may seem, a part of him hadn't wanted to be in control.

Once safely aboard Enterprise, the Captain, Uhura, Christine and he were examined and given clean bills of physical health.

"_There is no need for concern Nurse_." He had tried to reassure her, "_Neither of us were in control of our faculties_."

He noticed her pale and shrink away and realized he hadn't helped ease her discomfort. It was entirely possible he had increased it.

"_I hope this will not affect our working relationship.__"_

A small smile had curved her lips, but their eyes had not met. And throughout the following de-briefing, it appeared that Christine was ignoring him.

"Spock."

The Vulcan startled, inwardly, and turned to his Captain.

"Have you been listening?" The golden-haired man folded his arms with a mild amusement and turned to watch the Chief Nurse disappear down the corridor.

"I apologize, Sir. I was… distracted."

"Distracted?" A knowing smile spread over Jims lips, "Yes… you could say that."

"Please continue."

With a friendly tap on the arm, Jim beckoned him onward to the turbo-lift. "As I was saying," the Captain began, "Since the Enterprise is on a diplomatic mission of such importance, the only thing to do would be to send a shuttle party to assess the situation at the outpost."

"I concur." Spock agreed, stepping into the lift.

They were greeted by Uhura, who was heading for her duty shift.

"Lieutenant." Spock nodded.

"Uhura," Kirk began, turning to the young woman, "I want you to monitor the situation at -"

Spock fell out of the conversation once more, noting the ease with which the two officers addressed one-another. The Captain leaned in as he asked Uhura to contact the science out-post on Doenesha iii and draw up a roster of officers on duty for Spocks shuttle party.

The Lieutenant smiled fondly, eyes glittering as she committed her orders to memory. There was no dismissive or defensive body-language between the pair. Curious, as they had both been forced to act out a similar encounter as he had with Christine during their time on Platonious.

There was none of this ease between he and Chris- Nurse Chapel.

He was aware of the other two officers looking at him. Kirk seemed concerned. "Distracted again, Mr Spock." He moved closer and lowered the volume of his voice. "Perhaps you should report to sickbay."

Spock glanced at him, but all he could detect was a mild concern. "That is not necessary, Captain."

Kirk gave him another lingering look, then exited to the bridge.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** A Door Once Opened [Part 2] **Series:** Star Trek TOS

**Type:** Fanfiction **Pairing:** Spock/Christine **Rating:** 12

**Summary:** After the Platonious mission, Spock finds it necessary to compensate Christine for his actions while he was under duress. A mind-meld while she is suffering must be the easiest solution... but a door once opened can move in either direction...

**Comments: **Thanks so much for all the kind words and support. Hope you all enjoy the rest of the story!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the Star Trek characters or anything from the universe of Star Trek. I am just taking the characters and playing with them a while – promising to restore them whole and unblemished! Thanks to Gene Roddenberry for creating these toys for me to enjoy. Please don't take any of my playing as having any bearing on the actual franchise. Enjoy.

()

Spock piloted the shuttle to the planet surface with ease. He estimated that they had approximately seventeen point eight hours until rendezvous with the Enterprise.

"We have landed." He stated for the record. "Mr Scott, would you please accompany Nurse Chapel and myself to the command deck of the outpost."

The chief engineer took a backward glance to the chief medic, giving her a wide grin Spock didn't care too much to dwell on.

"Mr Scott." He ground-out.

"Aye sir?" The engineer affirmed.

"Kindly disembark."

Spock felt the taste of tension in the air as Scotty got to his feet and hurried to the door and Christine turned two, wide, ocean eyes toward him questioning, "Sir?"

"Punctuality is always favoured in these matters, Nurse Chapel."

Something in her eye dulled at the formality of the remark. But she had gathered herself and stood to follow the chief engineer to the door of the shuttle.

They were greeted by several shabby-looking science administrators who ushered them to the main dome.

One worker, a rough-looking middle-aged man named Nathan, rushed them to the main interface where many of the scientists and engineers worked to keep experiments under maximum containment.

"We don't know why the quakes began." Nathan explained, "We hadn't been drilling for months. None of the excavations were in critical stabilization areas… but they began suddenly, wreaking havoc amongst the indigenous wildlife… and our own buildings…" He indicated to the cracks evident in the prefabricated science dome, "They can handle most things. But these quakes are so violent that-"

"How many were injured?" Chapel asked. Now they had stopped, she had managed to tricorder their guide and assess the severity of his apparent bruises and scrapes.

Nathan glanced at Spock, but the First Officer knew better than to stand in front of a medic intent on healing the injured.

"Nine, ma'am."

With a curt nod, Christine checked, "And your medical staff?"

Nathan dipped his head, "Most of them were the medical staff."

Christine didn't hesitate, "Show me."

Spock watched as Nathan, dumbly, led Christine away from the main group and through an adjacent door.

"Mr Spock?" A woman called from the centre of the chaos of scientists and technicians. "Mr Spock!"

"Commander Arran, I presume?" Spock turned, an eyebrow upswept as the chief geologist moved toward them.

She was a short woman, skin tinted slightly purple, with stunning blue eyes. She looked a little too long at Scotty, before saluting Spock.

"Touch telepath." She beamed. "I've heard about the Vulcan taboo."

Impressed, Spock reciprocated, "You are not human."

"No," Arran glanced again at Scot, "though they do fascinate me."

Scotty moved forward, "Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott, at your service, commander."

"I'm sure you're all I need." Arran gave a slight smile before motioning toward the heart of the current crisis. "Our containment reactor is nearing critical... and I hear you are the miracle worker."

Hitching his uniform sleeves to his elbows, Scott affirmed, "Aye, that I am. Let's give the wee lassie a look-see."

Spock watched his second officer stride into the fray.

Arran turned back to Spock. "I think he's just what I need." She stated, recovering herself slightly. "The tremors began a few months ago, infrequent and irregular. We have highly unstable, particulate matter experiments contained in this facility Mr Spock. Starfleet designated this as a mild priority... but with the increasing violence of the tremors and the reduction in the space between them... I'm not sure that's the case."

"Evidently Starfleet Command believe that you have some time yet until a major incident, Commander Arran."

"Evidently, Starfleet Command have stopped reading my reports and believe three officers from the flagship will be enough to avoid complete solar-breakdown." She headed for the nearest workstation, skimming her fingers over the dials and controls. "By the way," she threw at Spock as he joined her, "call me Alexis."

"Is there any assistance I might offer, Alexis?"

She turned to Spock, "Commander Spock. I understand you have one of the finest scientific minds in the sector. But at the moment, there are nine people who need your help in the medical centre. Until I need you to fly as many of us out of here as inhumanly possible... I would ask you to help your medic tend to my wounded."

Spock nodded and made his way to the medical facilities. He found Christine there, in the midst of rushing administrators carrying supplies from one bedside to another. Her hair was pressed back by pins and she stood, frowning over a tricorder.

"May I be of assistance?"

Christine startled, "Mr Spock!" Her eyes darted about the room, "Was there something you needed?"

"I was about to ask you that very question."

Her forehead furrowed, "Aren't you needed in the science facilities?"

"It would seem Commander Arran has all she needs with engineer Scott."

The comment earned a smirk from Christine as she nodded, "I see."

He found he didn't particularly like that response. "Clarify."

Christine's shoulders rolled back, "It's nothing." She shrugged, "Scotty is quite the handsome figure and, from reputation, Arran enjoys meeting striking human males."

Regretting his insistence she explain her comment, Spock moved to her side and changed subject; "Is there any way I can prove useful to you?"

Christine's mouth fell open slightly, her eyes wide.

An unusual fear gripped him as he continued, "As a medic..."

"Right. Of course." She nervously brushed a stray hair behind her ear and ushered him over to the storage locker. "There has been a lot of damage to the medical inventory computer and I need to know what resources..."

Spock followed taking the offered PADD from the chief nurse and nodding, "I shall endeavour to repair this system within the hour."

Christine smiled, "Can't think of anyone else who could."

They shared a moment as she smiled and he relaxed into the gesture.

He heard the rumble before he felt it. "Get down!" Spock ordered, gripping Christine and turning her into his body to shield her from the impacts as the walls crumbled about them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** A Door Once Opened [Part 3] **Series:** Star Trek TOS

**Type:** Fanfiction **Pairing:** Spock/Christine **Rating:** 12

**Summary:** After the Platonious mission, Spock finds it necessary to compensate Christine for his actions while he was under duress. A mind-meld while she is suffering must be the easiest solution... but a door once opened can move in either direction...

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the Star Trek characters or anything from the universe of Star Trek. I am just taking the characters and playing with them a while – promising to restore them whole and unblemished! Thanks to Gene Roddenberry for creating these toys for me to enjoy. Please don't take any of my playing as having any bearing on the actual franchise. Enjoy.

()

It was several minutes until the ground-shakes ended. Spock felt bruised and battered from the ordeal, but he also felt a pride in protecting Christine from the falling debris.

She breathed beneath him, before her wavering voice asked, "Spock. Are you going to get off me?"

Now slightly abashed, he pushed upward, forcing the slabs of plaster and pieces of rubble away and to the ground.

Christine stood, taking a deep breath before looking around.

"Where are we?" She asked.

"I successfully forced us into a storage locker," Spock explained, looking around the tight compartment. "Logically, it was the only space that afforded us a level of safety from the quake."

"What about the others?"

Spock hadn't really thought about them. Truthfully, his priority had been Christine. "I believe they would be the other side of this door," Spock paced three steps and outstretched a hand. His long, delicate fingers traced the smooth, immovable surface, "It would appear that we are quite trapped."

"No!" Christine exclaimed with a mild panic. She joined him at the door and pushed. "It's too small to hold the both of us. We can't stay here," she pushed harder at the sealed door.

"Nurse, are you quite alright?"

"I'm fine Mr Spock," she forced out, pushing her whole weight against the metal. "It's just that I'm not too fond of closed spaces." Turning her back on the immovable exit, she breathed in deeply, eyes darting frantically around the small room.

Spock could think of no way to calm her.

"Claustrophobia is a state of mind, Nurse."

"I know that Commander," she pushed through gritted teeth, "But I feel it now and my med-kit if on the other side of this rock." Chapel slid to the floor, folding her legs in under her and closing her eyes, "I'll be fine."

Spock doubted that from the way she was rocking back and forth. He made a logical decision.

"I can help."

Chapel opened her eyes and fixed on his with sheer panic, "How?"

"A mind-meld," he said calmly.

"No!" She shouted a little too quickly, "No, thank you." Struggling to her feet, Christine balled her fists and stood to attention, "I am fine."

"I beg to differ..."

"Sir, it is as you said," Christine forced out, trembling with stress, "this is a state of mind."

"You are shaking, Nurse," he moved closer growing exceedingly worried. "Christine," Spock said, reaching out a hand, "I failed to make it stop on Platonius. Here I can, now, if you let me."

This, above all else, distracted her. "Is that what you think?" Her eyes met his, burning with compassion, "You didn't fail me."

The moment sealed.

"Never the less," Spock continued, bound to his guilt as tightly as Christine was wrapped in fear, "Please allow me to help you this time."

A band of sweat was forming on Christine's forehead, her breathing swallowed, "But that would mean sharing ourselves with one another."

"We have shared consciousness before."

"No. This is different and you know that," Christine forced herself away, beating at the door. "Help! We're in here. Help!"

She didn't feel the hand on her shoulder until a sharp twinge laced through her. Spock caught the falling form, hoping that she would forgive him the neck-pinch… and what he was about to do.

()

The lights were too bright for Christine as she awoke.; she moved her arm to shield her eyes… There was a fascinating sense of calm enveloped her as she analyzed her surroundings.

It was light and the air seemed fresh and free of dust. It appeared she was in sickbay. The only conclusion was that Spock had incapacitated her and…

Christine sat bolt upright, filled with fury and embarrassment.

She was instantly met by a number of junior nurses, trying to lye her back on the bio-bed.

"Christine," McCoy called from across the room, "I'll be with you in a moment."

Her friend was stood beside a bio-bed… a bio-bed that held Spock.

The dark, Vulcan eyes focused on her, even as McCoy injected him with a hypospray.

Part of Christine wished that the source of the focus was a personal concern… though there was no reason to believe so.

What Spock had done… she was unsure how deeply he had penetrated her mind… how much of himself he had given her… or how much of her had been lost in him…

She turned away and happened to hear the junior nurses talking about preparations for aid relief.

Clutching the blanket about her naked form, Christine uneasily stood. She was immediately in the conversation about changing the cargobay into a makeshift triage centre…

"Chris. Will you sit the hell down!" McCoy was by her side.

She turned, her blonde hair falling about her shoulders. "I can help…" She protested feebly.

"Christine," Spock sat up, his blanket falling from his strong frame and pooling in his lap. "You are unwell. Please take a seat."

Christine was amazed by the way Spock was looking at her. He seemed almost consumed.

Leonard was leading her toward the Vulcan… then sitting her down on the biobed at his side.

Spock watched her as she tried her best to lie back and look calm for the nurses to leave her alone.

"What?" She asked him.

He raised a brow in response, "Nothing of which I am aware."

She turned to him, noticing he had not covered his bruised chest. "You got those on the planet?" She asked, "Shielding me from the falling debris."

Spock looked away a moment, as if he almost… felt something…

"I can't believe you did that to me," Christine said.

Spock looked at her; such a look… she could have lost herself.

Spock broke their shared gaze, "I apologize, but you would not have allowed me otherwise."

"You're damned right!" She burst, leaping off the bed to his side, "I can't believe you violated me in such a manner!" She prodded him in the chest, "Again! Without permission…"

He wasn't listening. His eyes glazed over, focusing on her neck.

"What?" She asked.

"You are injured," he said, indicating to the bruise there. "I apologize."

His fingers traced her skin; Christine gasped at the feeling.

"It's nothing time won't heal."

She shadowed the pattern of his fingers on her flesh.

"Nurse Chapel…" He began and failed, "Christine…"

"No." She breathed, "Don't…"

Spock stopped. He wasn't sure what he had begun… but it ended with her request.

A nurse was suddenly by their side and Christine was at her bio-bed.

This was the end of their conversation.

_Probably for the best_, Spock concluded.

()


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** A Door Once Opened [Part 4] **Series:** Star Trek TOS

**Type:** Fanfiction **Pairing:** Spock/Christine **Rating:** 12

**Summary:** After the Platonious mission, Spock finds it necessary to compensate Christine for his actions while he was under duress. A mind-meld while she is suffering must be the easiest solution... but a door once opened can move in either direction...

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the Star Trek characters or anything from the universe of Star Trek. I am just taking the characters and playing with them a while – promising to restore them whole and unblemished! Thanks to Gene Roddenberry for creating these toys for me to enjoy. Please don't take any of my playing as having any bearing on the actual franchise. Enjoy.

()()()()

Personnel had dedicated the monthly ships-ball in honour of the science team, who were mostly healed thanks to McCoys subtle skill and the quality of medical attention he had received. Barely three days after the fatal mission to the science dome, the team was laughing and dancing with Enterprise staff

Commander Arran had thanked Spock before making her way, rather swiftly, to the Enterprise Chief Engineer to request a dance.

Spock refrained from dancing. He was quite content to stand near the exit and wait for duty to be fulfilled. There were musicians gathered in the far corner of the room and a colourful assortment of food lined the tables to his right. An unusual Itopian liquor was being served as Kirk and McCoy joined him.

"Quite a shin-dig, eh, Spock?" McCoy asked, swirling a glass of flame orange liquid at him. "You should try some. It has no alcoholic properties in it what-so-ever."

"Perhaps later, Doctor." Spock said, eyes fixed on the crowd. He had his own doubts about the effect of the liquor. Observations so far concluded that, while there may be no alcohol in its mixture, it was certainly lowering inhibitions.

Mr Scott and Commander Arran seemed to be gyrating closer and closer... Spock wondered if the thick attraction in the room was a product of the rhythmic music or the direction his own thoughts had been leading him the past few days...

"Penny for them," Kirk said, sipping his own glass.

Spocks brow rose.

"Your thoughts, Spock," McCoy interjected, "a penny for your thoughts."

"Why would my musings hold a monetary value?"

Kirk stepped between them in an easy motion, one that he was used to, as McCoy's colour rose a few notches.

"You seem a little distracted, Spock," Kirk explained. "Was it something that happened on Doenesha?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Everything of relevance was in my report, Captain."

"We're asking as your friends, Spock," McCoy said, almost grinding his teeth. "And you know it! There was something that must have been missed from your report. You've been less than focused ever since we pulled you off that heaving hunk of ice."

Spock rose an indignant brow, "There were no additional incidents on Doenesha that are causing me discomfort."

Muttering darkly to himself, McCoy huffed, taking a gulp of his drink. He looked to Kirk, "Chris has been acting a little out-of-sorts too."

Spock turned to hear the doctors concerns, "How so?"

This time, it was McCoy's brow that rose, "I don't know. She seems… well… she just isn't herself. A little more… emotional… quick to anger at times and strangely calm and reflective other times. It's damned peculiar, if you ask me!"

But not wholly unsurprising. It had been a particularly intimate meld they had shared, even through unconsciousness. The root of Christine's claustrophobia had been buried deep within her memory. Finding the depths of such a problem had opened many doors. Without the benefits of meditation, the young nurse may have difficulty dealing with the emotions sparked by such a probe. It was something that had taken Vulcans centuries to master… perhaps he should visit her to make sure she had adjusted…

"It's damned peculiar, if you ask me," McCoy said, eying Spock accusingly. "What exactly went on with you two when you were trapped in that room?"

Spock gave his question no heed. Instead, he wondered if, perhaps, the exchange between them been more than he had intended?

Both Kirk and McCoy now watched Spock closely.

"It would seem nurse Chapel had a severe claustrophobia," Spock noticed McCoy nod understanding, "I offered a mind-meld to apply my Vulcan control to rein-in her irrational fear."

"And Chris agreed?" McCoy all but spluttered.

Spock bit down on the insult he felt, "Would there be reason not to?"

McCoy snorted. "Everyone knows how she feels about you, Spock."

Kirk nodded in acknowledgement.

"She wears her heart for everyone to see… might as well be pinned on her dammed tunic when it comes to you."

Spock looked to Kirk for some form of support, only to find his Captain and friend, finishing his drink and staring out to the dance floor.

"Erm.. Bones…" Kirk began.

"I mean, for Gods sake Spock… even you… with that damned green blood of yours… even you know…"

"Bones…" Kirk tried again.

"What?"

Kirk looked shocked, staring out at the dance floor, almost in need of confirmation of some form.

"Well, I'll be dammed." McCoy sighed.

Spock turned to see Christine Chapel… dancing with the young scientist… Nathan.

An illogical wave of emotion flew through Spock as he noted how closely the two were intertwined.

"A tango…" McCoy suggested, as the young scientist bent Christine back and pulled her against his body in an obscene fashion.

Spock felt his blood rise at the scene before him.

Christines blonde hair fell in golden curls over her neck… which was bare. She wore a blood green dress, baring her shoulders and the sleek column of her throat.

Spock found it difficult to draw his gaze away and back to his friends.

McCoy beheld him sternly; Jim was watching him with a slight grin.

"Perhaps you should cut in, Spock," Kirk suggested, lightly.

"Like hell." McCoy said, "Chris looks like she's having a good time out there. Don't you dare do anything unless you mean it, or you'll have to answer to me!"

Spock rose a brow. "That is, indeed, a most successful threat Doctor."

McCoy sniffed, finishing his drink. "You bet your alien ass."

Spock watched him return to the bar and begin speaking to a particularly striking Doeneshan female from the science base.

He turned his gaze back to Christine, watching as Nathan's hand reached down her back before she gripped it, replacing it at her waist.

"Do you even know how to dance?" Jim continued.

Spock didn't answer.

"Looks like Christine enjoys dancing."

"I believe I know the basics, Sir."

Jim laughed a little, "Then just do what I do."

Making his way in to the crowd, Jim made his way to Janice Rand and took her hand away from her dance partner. She smiled, blushed and accepted his lead without a hint of embarrassment for their positions, or their audience.

Christines laugh echoed across the room as the young human twirled her. Spock didn't see anyone else had noticed it, but he had heard her.

If a human could summon the courage, surely Spock could find a way to approach the woman he saw before him.

Spock watched the material of her dress swirl and settle and, before realizing he was in motion, found himself at her side.

"Miss Chapel," Spock began, outstretching a hand, "would you care to partner me?"

Christine turned beautiful pools of topaz toward him, completely silencing him from further thought.

"Excuse me, Commander, but I believe I have engaged the young lady."

"That's ok." She said, calming the young scientist by placing a hand on his chest. "This shouldn't be long. There are other ladies in the room."

Not completely at ease with the suggestion, Nathan took her hand and kissed each of her fingers. "I shall return," he stated, throwing a hateful look to Spock before heading toward an unsuspecting ensign.

Christine placed her hand in Spocks, recoiling slightly at the energy that passed between them before collecting herself. "I didn't know you could dance."

"My mother insisted on teaching me while I was young. She did not understand that the physical contact could be uncomfortable for Vulcans."

Christine snapped her hand away. "I am sorry."

Spock snatched it back. "I am not completely Vulcan."

"So... you want to hold my hand?" Christine smiled slightly.

Spock's only answer was to draw her near.

They moved to the music in a close, if rigid fashion. Christine was hardly as relaxed as she had been mere moments before.

"Miss Chapel," Spock began then faltered, "Christine…"

"Yes?" She breathed.

"I believe I owe you an apology."

She shook her head, all enthusiasm for the conversation spent. "Perhaps you should stop apologizing for what has passed and start to think about what might be."

Spock rose a curious brow, "What might be?"

Christine shrugged, "Or not." She pulled closer to him as the music moved from waltz to latin. Her body aligning with his, "It's really not the time to be discussing things."

With her current proximity, Spock agreed.

He moved them to the music, steps memorized from childhood and equally calculated to fit the rhythm and space of the floor. Each sharp moment designed to bring their bodies crashing back to one another, never to separate. Spock held tightly to Christine as she twisted and turned to the rhythm.

It wasn't until he span her out to freestyle that she surprised him, kicking her leg over his shoulder, trusting him to catch her at the apex of the move.

He repaid that confidence with a tight grip to her waist and lifting her to twirl about the room before shrugging his shoulder, spinning them back to back and rolling Christine into a balanced hold with his hand supporting her neck. He snapped back, bringing them practically nose-to-nose.

The only thing that stopped him from continuing their fluidic movement was the look in her crystal eyes.

Spock wet his, suddenly dry, lips and hesitated at the feeling of their chests crashing together as they recovered their breath.

In that moment… they were the only two beings in the room…

He was aware that Christine was smiling as she attempted to control her breath. "Your mother taught you that?" She asked.

"Improvisation on a basic theme." He explained.

She nodded, casting a look about the room, "Much more improvisation and I am afraid we might be in danger of setting the rec' room alight."

Spock was stunned as the sensation of being watched filtered through his perception.

Christine delicately placed her hands on his chest and pushed away, "If you would excuse me, Commander."

Spock watched Christine leave the function as the other officers, slowly, made their way back to the dance floor and McCoy glared at him with threat in his eyes…

()


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** A Door Once Opened [Part 5] **Series:** Star Trek TOS

**Type:** Fanfiction **Pairing:** Spock/Christine **Rating:** 12

**Summary:** After the Platonious mission, Spock finds it necessary to compensate Christine for his actions while he was under duress. A mind-meld while she is suffering must be the easiest solution... but a door once opened can move in either direction...

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the Star Trek characters or anything from the universe of Star Trek. I am just taking the characters and playing with them a while – promising to restore them whole and unblemished! Thanks to Gene Roddenberry for creating these toys for me to enjoy. Please don't take any of my playing as having any bearing on the actual franchise. Enjoy.

()

Since the night of the ball, Spock had noticed much of Christine's discomfort around him had faded. Indeed, she seemed a lot more confident and sure in herself.

In a polar reaction to a few days ago, Spock watched the Chief Nurse approach him. She seemed engrossed in a padd and was sure to walk straight by… but at the last moment, she looked up.

"Mr Spock." She beamed, eyes sparkling. "I almost missed you."

"Indeed." Spock nodded toward the padd. "You were most absorbed."

Christines smile turned up a notch. "Just looking at my work for the day. Alpha shift are due for a physical… I believe I will see you in a few hours."

"You are correct."

"Good," Christine said, side-stepping him. "Then prepare to be put through your paces!"

If anyone noticed the smile that marked Spocks lips, they may have attributed it to wind. But Spock, as much as he might deny it, was smiling.

()

When he reached the medi-bay, Spock was anticipating an enjoyable physical. Striding through the sick-bay doors, Spock came to a halt and observed Christine talking and laughing with a semi-naked technician.

They were speaking with enthusiastic swipes of their hands and fond smiles. For a moment the young officer had seemed quite carried away and Christine had taken his hand to stop him flying off the bed.

To Spocks dismay, the young man closed Christines hand in his own. The nurse smiled kindly and moved closer-

"Spock." McCoy approached and heartily slapped his padd down on the desk. "You're early. Thought you hated these things."

"Punctuality is usually favoured in the medical profession, is it not, Doctor?"

"True enough." The doctor turned to reach for something on the shelf. "I am sure Chris will be with you in a moment."

"She appears to be occupied at present." Spock said through clenched teeth.

McCoy frowned and rounded the desk to stand at Spocks side. "Ah." He said knowingly. "Jefferson." He shook his head. "Transferred over from the Hoshi a week ago. He's been in here every day since." Laughing, McCoy added. "Sometimes twice a day. What it is to be young, eh, Spock?"

The doctor moved away. Spock watched Chapel hand the ensign his tunic and walk toward the computer terminal. The man followed and took her hand again. Kissing Christine's hand, the technician left.

Chapel half-smiled, though her eyes seemed distant, almost sad. She shook her head and turned.

"Spock." She brightened, wiping her hands down her uniform, sub-consciously.

He moved forward. "Nurse."

Christine tapped the bio-bed. "You know the drill. Let's get started."

Settling on the rigid mattress, Spock focused on the ceiling.

"Sorry, we are a little behind. I had a last minute patient –"

"Ensign Jefferson." Spock stated, indicating he was aware of the reason behind the delay.

Flushing, slightly, Christine waved a monitor over Spocks torso. "Yes."

"Was he unwell?"

Catching his eye a moment, Christine sighed. "I think that he's just lonely. It's only a few days since he was transferred and he hasn't met a lot of people."

"He seems to know you."

Moving to collect a padd, she began noting Spocks read-outs. "I was the first person he met when he came aboard." She set her padd aside. "He might be growing… attached."

Spock moved to see her clearly. "And his affections are not wanted?"

Her shoulders sagged, but when she turned, her expressions seemed schooled and emotionless.

_Impressive._

"If you would remove your tunic and follow me, Commander."

Spock felt a little berated. The use of his rank had the desired effect and made him feel a little child-like. Of course, it was none of his concern who brokered the nurses affections.

He removed his tunic and gave it to the nurse.

His breath hitched as their fingers touched. Illogical that such a motion would cause a physical reaction; though he had been more physically aware of Christine for quite some time.

The blonde's rose-coloured cheeks deepened two-shades as she moved away to perform the first bout of scans.

"I was curious as to your status, these past few weeks." He said, trying not to raise a brow.

"Are you asking me how I am?" She smiled, not raising her eyes from the console.

"I believe that is what I said." Spock confirmed.

Christine smiled and continued with her scans, "I'm fine. I've been fine."

"Indeed," Spock continued, noticing the bio-bed alter and begin a new series of scans. "You have seemed... well."

"You talk as though you have been keeping tabs on me."

Christine tried to keep her eyes from trailing in his direction.

"I have." He said, feeling the truth of the words solidify before him and tethering to the surface of his strength. "And I was curious as to your plans for this evening."

Christines hand halted in its sweeps as her crystal eyes finally met his. He noticed how she trembled, but went on to answer, "Nothing in stone. Just finishing reports."

"And the deadlines?" Spock asked eagerly...

"Not due for a few weeks."

Hope swelled in Spock, "May I ask your plans for dinner?"

The nurse stuttered, "I... well... nothing." She recovered, "Spock... are you asking me to dinner?"

"I believe that is the intent."

The colour in Christines cheeks bloomed; it made her all the more appealing. "Then I will be ready at 19.00. You can collect me from my quarters."

"I shall see you then." Spock confirmed, attempting to suppress the surge of excitement that rushed through him.

He turned and left the room.

()


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** A Door Once Opened [Part 6] **Series:** Star Trek TOS

**Type:** Fanfiction **Pairing:** Spock/Christine **Rating:** 12

**Summary:** After the Platonious mission, Spock finds it necessary to compensate Christine for his actions while he was under duress. A mind-meld while she is suffering must be the easiest solution... but a door once opened can move in either direction...

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the Star Trek characters or anything from the universe of Star Trek. I am just taking the characters and playing with them a while – promising to restore them whole and unblemished! Thanks to Gene Roddenberry for creating these toys for me to enjoy. Please don't take any of my playing as having any bearing on the actual franchise. Enjoy.

()

Later in the shift, Spock found it necessary to visit engineering and found the chief engineer somewhat happily engaged, explaining the complexities of his modified dylithium chamber to Commander Arran.

The scientist smiled enticingly as she examined the cracked gems that had powered the ship and questioned the eager-to-please Scott.

"I think you will find my theories regarding the reconstitution of dilithium crystals most interesting, Monty," she intoned, eyes sparkling as brightly as the precious stones in her hands. "Perhaps we could meet tonight and discuss our ideas. We might be able to pound out a solution that would satisfy both of us."

The engineer grinned, "Aye. That we might."

Arran winked a violet eye and tossed the crystal to him, "Until tonight then!"

The commander passed Spock, giving the slightest nod of recognition before leaving the room.

Spock watched the human smooth his hair as he replaced the crystal and nodded to his superior, "I still got it."

Understanding this was a light-hearted attempt by the engineer to affirm his attractiveness to the opposite sex, regardless of species, Spock moved to the man in a bid to discover how Scotty had wooed the woman in question.

"Well, Sir... I dinnea think I'm the one makin' the moves in this case."

"But you were aware of the doctors intentions toward you."

Scott looked nervously about the room, "I think most people were. There are the signs you see..." he trailed off, giving Spock an imploring look before seeming to give up. "And she told me she was interested."

"Were you?"

Scott made a frustrated sound and motioned Spock to his office.

"If I may, Sir. Can I ask what this is about? Last I looked, she is the same rank as I am and there arnea regulations against us..." The man made a motion with his hand... "Having a... I mean, doing the... well, reviewing the blueprints to make sure all systems are still working in that department, if you catch my meaning."

"I apologise, Mr Scott. It is not my intention to make you uncomfortable; I have come to you to ask your advice."

The human paused, seeming a little dubious, "About women?" He smiled, seeming flattered, "I would have thought Jim woulda been a better choice-"

Spock held up his hand, "The Captains methods are not... I prefer to cultivate a more... reserved and level-headed opinion."

"Aye," Scott frowned, uncertain of the compliment, "he's not one for the long-term. More about seeking the conquest..."

Spock grew uncomfortable, stretching his neck against his tightening collar.

"May I ask who the lucky lass is to be, sir?"

Spock considered this, but as the chief engineer seemed willing to discuss the subject he could hardly withhold the vital information.

"Nurse-"

"Christine." Scott nodded.

Spock attempted to control the flash of anger at the humans use of her name.

"Ah. Things been a wee bit different since the Platonious mission, am I right?"

Biting back the surprise, Spock allowed himself to raise an eyebrow. "I would have thought there was a marked difference in my demeanour since Doenesha, not before."

The engineer nodded his head, sagely, "To the casual observer, maybe." He grinned, "I may work about machines, Mr Spock, but the fine thing about any technician is attention to detail. And the picture's been painted in the pair of you for a long time mow, let me tell you."

As Spock listened with increasing alarm, he was also reassured, as Scotty slapped him on the back and stated, "She wouldnea come for dinner if she wasnea interested. You've got a fine one there, Sir. Fine indeed."

Spock found himself agreeing, but feeling as lost as to where to start wooing the young nurse as ever.

As if in answer to his thoughts, the engineer gave him a sidewards glance, "Which flowers would you be taking?"

"Flowers?"

"Oh aye," the engineer smiled, throwing an arm about his cohorts shoulder, "roses are generally the most romantic. But, if you are to keep it light... perhaps a pose of some other pretty thing?"

"The beginning of human courtship is symbolised by the sacrifice of fauna?"

Scott looked at him a moment, "Perhaps a spray that includes sunflowers... I'll have Sulu fix you up from the hydroponics bay."

Spock nodded, not truly understanding the necessity but trusting his subordinate in his judgement.

"And where will you be meeting the lady?" Scott asked.

Spocks brow rose in response, "I had assumed the cafeteria would be sufficient."

The engineer gawked at him, the shocked expression soon giving way to dismay. "Right," he sighed. "Leave it to me."

Spock nodded. What else was there to do?

()

Rather interestingly, Spock had felt the need to return to his quarters and, after a cleansing shower, change into dress uniform.

Once he was dressed he received a message from Mr Scott to arrive at the botanical garden by 1900 and to bring a bottle of chardonnay.

As ordered, Spock arrived.

The doors opened into soft light, the warm scent of flowers and a startled chief nurse.

"Spock," she breathed, "this is…"

Christine looked about the space, surrounded by natural hues and before a glass table with two silver, domed dishes.

"Perfect," Spock concluded, allowing himself a moment to absorb the beauty surrounding him. This was a far better idea than having a meal in the crowded canteen. He wondered how to repay his friends.

Christine smiled and, for a moment, Spock wondered if she had detected the note of awe in his voice.

"Shall we?" Christine gestured to the table.

Before he realised, Spock had rounded the space to hold Christines chair.

She blushed and took a seat, "You must have gone to a great deal of effort."

Quashing his compliments to the true engineers of this night, Spock allowed Christine to believe it was he who had arranged the lights to glow about them, that it was he who had prepared the mystery dish they were to enjoy.

Scotty and Sulu would only reprimand him for exposing their influence, he reasoned, and Christine would be disappointed.

He would attempt not to answer further questions and simply enjoy the company as much as he was able.

Christine sat awkwardly in her chair, subconsciously straightening her uniform or touching her hair and, while Spock did not display any of his nerves, he understood how she was feeling.

"So," Christine faltered slightly, the confidence gathered dissipating, "was there a reason you wanted to share a dinner with me in this, romantic place?"

The question was attempting to be blasé, but the look in her wide, topaz eyes showed how insecure Christine was.

Spock reached inside himself, "I wanted to get to know you better."

She laughed, "We have been working together for how many years now?"

Inclining his head, Spock gave a nod, "That was in a professional level. I am your superior and you are a fine medic."

Christine dipped her head to avoid the compliment.

"This meal," Spock continued, "gives me the opportunity to see you in a different way."

"Off duty?" She asked.

"Indeed."

"As equals?"

"Most certainly."

"Or friends."

"I would hope," Spock began, reaching for the bottle to mask his suddenly trembling hands, "perhaps there might be more."

There was a moments silence.

Christine cleared her throat. "What's for dinner?"

Spock allowed himself a moment of happiness and set about serving an enjoyable, if slightly flamboyant display of Vulcanian cuisine.

When the eating was over and all the dishes replaced in the dispenser, Spock turned back to Christine, offering her a pot of tea and finding himself gratified in her acceptance.

"You know," she admitted, while he poured the drink, "most people would find this scene hard to believe."

Spock faltered momentarily before returning to his seat and asking, "What is that?"

"They're all convinced that I'm too emotional for you…"

Not sure what Christine was trying to say, Spock shrugged slightly and stated, "My mother is human, I am half-human; emotions are a part of me as much as anyone else. It is only my Vulcan heritage that dictates how they must be controlled, lest they lead me and take over my being entirely."

A smile played on the nurses lips, "You, overrun with emotion?"

"It is no laughing matter Christine…" he leaned forward, swiftly taking her hand and looking into her crystal eyes, "I am stronger and faster than a human. All Vulcans are. If I were to allow emotions to rule me, I could strike when I am angered and easily kill. If I were overcome with desire I could become a monster. But logic over emotion helps me to control those basic wants and primal urges. Logic helps me to hold your hand and not to crush it."

When Spock looked to her for understanding, he found himself somewhat transfixed by her startled expression.

"You're holding my hand…" she whispered…

He dropped the aforementioned appendage, immediately and began to apologise only to be silenced by the delicate press of Christine's finger against his lips.

"It's fine," she told him.

For one of the few occasions in his life, Spock felt human… he allowed himself to enjoy the feel of Christines silken skin as her hand shivered slightly in his.

They sat there for a long moment, neither moving toward nor away from each other while he considered his options.

"Communications to Mr Spock," Lieutenant Uhura's voice echoed over the rooms speakers.

Somewhere inside, the half-Vulcan sighed. He looked to Christine and hoped she was as disappointed by the interruption as he was.

"Communications to Mr Spock," Uhura insisted, "Mr Spock, come in, please…"

Christine withdrew her hand, smoothing it on the thigh of her dress, awkwardly…

"Spock here," the commander confirmed.

"Message from Starfleet – low priority, Sir."

He felt his head dip, "Confirmed."

"Message reads; Ambassador Sarek and party will require transport from Starbase to Iego twelve. Enterprise to re-direct once remaining Deonishan scientists have disembarked…"

Christine coughed slightly before dabbing her lips with a serviette.

"Go on, lieutenant," Spock said, eyeing Chritine as she recovered.

There was a pause on the intercom, "Am I interrupting something, Commander?"

He closed his eyes, _great._ "No," he lied, "please continue."

"That was all, sir," the communications officer said, amusement in her voice.

The transmission ended and Spock looked to his dinner partner.

"So…" Christine breathed out, "your parents are coming to stay…"

Spock inclined his head, "Indeed."

()


End file.
